


The Bed

by Lamsfan



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Historical RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Heartbreak, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22190815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamsfan/pseuds/Lamsfan
Summary: George's last memory of Alex in their bed haunts him.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/George Washington, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens (probably)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	The Bed

**Author's Note:**

> I had planned to finish or discard all my old WIP and start fresh for the new decade. This one was on the 'discard' pile but it was on my mind last night. It's short.
> 
> I wonder if IRL Hamilton was a serial cheater.

Something yanked George from an uneasy rest and he almost knocked over the lamp next to the couch when he reached to turn it on. He moved quickly to catch it before it crashed onto the floor and spiked his already fast heartbeat. He searched the room; nothing seemed out of place. He paused in the doorway to his bedroom, noting how Alex had changed the sheets and made the bed before he left. It was fresh and clean but George couldn’t erase his last memory of Alex in their bed, the bed they found together and knew would be their sanctuary.

They had searched for weeks for the perfect bed, the perfect mattress. It needed to be sturdy enough to accommodate their extracurricular activities yet soft enough to soothe them afterwards. They covered it in fine linens that caressed their skin and pillows that cradled them to sleep. They had awakened that morning in their normal position. Despite the ample space in the king sized bed, they lay close; their legs tangled together, Alex’s head buried in George’s chest, George’s warm hand resting on his hip. They had followed their usual routine, having coffee together and reviewing their schedules for the day. George packed several Washington & Associates mugs in a tote bag. He planned to give them to his visitors, law students seeking internships, after their tour of the firm later. He stopped at the door and pulled Alex into a deep kiss, stopping just before he lost himself in the smell of his shampoo and the feel of his soft skin over taut muscles. Neither of them noticed that he forgot the bag.

Until he returned home and opened the door. Shoes and bits of clothing too big for Alex lined the floor in a path to the bedroom. He followed it, dreading what he would find and hoping he was wrong. They were asleep, curled together, and didn’t hear when he opened the door. George observed their comfort with one another and knew immediately this could not have been their first time together. He almost thought it might have been better if he had walked in on them in the act. He might have been able to pretend it was just sex. But this looked like more.

The note he left on the kitchen counter was short:

_Alex,_

_I came home at lunch to pick up the bag I forgot. I didn’t wake you; I thought the way you looked in your lover’s arms was reserved for me. Imagine my surprise. I’ll be home at 7:00pm. Please don’t be here._

_George_

He let the door slam shut behind him, not caring that the noise would wake Alex and send him scrambling to get dressed.

The days and weeks passed. Alex eventually stopped texting, stopped trying to explain, stopped asking for forgiveness. George continued to sleep on the couch, unable to return to the bedroom they had shared. The bed, their bed, stayed empty. Like George’s heart.


End file.
